


You Hold The Key To My Heart

by Selenic



Series: Gibbs/Tony Yuletide [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Christmas, Holidays, M/M, Secret Santa, Yuletide 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-06 05:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenic/pseuds/Selenic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony receives a mysterious Secret Santa gift :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Hold The Key To My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This story is was my 2013 entry at [Tibbs Yuletide on LJ](http://tibbs-yuletide.livejournal.com/). It's a sequel to my last year's entry _The Kiss That Took The Prize_ ([on the comm](http://tibbs-yuletide.livejournal.com/45091.html) | [on my LJ](http://selenic76.livejournal.com/17304.html) | [on AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/992915)). It can be read as a oneshot, but certain things, like the small epilogue, make more sense if you've read the first fic :) (There is a third idea too, maybe that'll get finished by next year ^_^) Unbetad, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Crossposted [on my LJ](http://selenic76.livejournal.com/20526.html) | [read on the comm](http://tibbs-yuletide.livejournal.com/63585.html)
> 
> Edit: The third part is now up too! _For All That Matters Is Love_ ([on AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2857199) | [on my LJ](http://selenic76.livejournal.com/53367.html) | [on the comm](http://tibbs-yuletide.livejournal.com/77755.html))

 

You Hold The Key To My Heart

 

“Who would give a key as a present?” Ziva asked, handing the thing back Tony and returning to her desk, her whole demeanour declaring that this ‘secret Santa’ thing was not only ridiculous, but a complete waste of time. “And who came up with this whole idea of giving gifts to people you might not even know, and not telling who they are from?”

“It’s a time honoured Christmas tradition,” Tony explained, leaning back in his seat and turning the small piece of metal around in his hand, eyes studying its features for the umpteenth time, “the sole purpose of which is making everyone feel uncomfortable and anxious for weeks, first because they can’t decide what to buy, then because they can’t figure out who’s to blame for their gift so they have to act nice with everyone until the whole thing is forgotten.”

“Tony!” Abby shouted, punching him in the arm, surprising Tony painfully—she’d snuck upon him with almost Gibbs class stealth. “Where’s your holiday spirit?”

“Ouch!” Tony was forced to put the key aside for a moment so he could rub the assaulted appendage. “That really hurt!” Abby had a soft spot for all the yearly holidays, and was fairly unforgiving to those trying to sully the spirit of the season.

“Well you deserved it,” Abby stated and gave Tony a stern glare, “Nobody likes a Grinch.”

“Tony’s just upset because he can’t figure out who his Secret Santa is,” Tim commented over from his side of the bullpen, smiling smugly. The lucky McGeek had gotten a new, shiny thingamajig as a gift, probably from one of the guys down in information retrieval. Tony didn’t have a clue as to what it did, but he felt slightly envious nonetheless.

“So, what have you and Gibbs planned for the holidays?” Abby enquired with a smile, her cheerfulness back in full swing; she rarely stayed angry for long. “Any chance of a romantic Christmas getaway?”

“No, nothing fancy,” Tony replied, but the thought had its appeal, and he’d love to arrange something like that. For a moment Tony got distracted by a mental image of him and Jethro in front of a fireplace, naked...

“Tony, what _are_ you thinking of, you’re blushing,” Abby interrupted, leaning over Tony’s desk until her face was too close for comfort, a wicked smirk on her lips that left no room for imagination. “Is it Gibbs?” Tony could feel the heat on his cheeks rise to all new levels. He cleared his throat and tried to get back on subject.

“Well Gibbs has been building those toys throughout the year, we’ll be taking them out to local charities and children’s hospitals. Then it’s just me and him, and cowboy stakes and good movies.” And in Tony’s book, that was damn near perfect too. Neither Gibbs nor Tony really celebrated Christmas anymore, both for their own reasons. Tony had still secretly made Jethro a gift—a small wooden picture frame that he’d carved a little heart on. It wasn’t pretty, but he hoped Jethro would appreciate the gesture. “How about you?” Tony asked as a diversion, but Abby had already gotten distracted by the little opened up gift box in front of Tony, and the key.

“I could check the list you know” she said and gingerly picked the item up for closer scrutiny, “see who it’s from. I am the appointed Secret Santa’s helper after all.”

“Now that would be cheating,” Tony said and snatched the key from Abby’s fingers. “Still, it’s driving me nuts! I should be able to figure this out, I mean the thing looks so familiar,” he glared at the damned key, but it remained mute and refused to give up its secrets. “But with no idea of who gave it to me, I have no clue what this opens!”

“My front door, DiNozzo,” Gibbs stated curtly as he passed them on his way to his own desk. Tony froze, processing the sentence in his head.

“But Gibbs,” McGee started with a pondering look on his face. “You always say your front door is always open.”

“And you didn’t take part in the gift exchange,” Abby noted with a suspicious tone, waiving an accusatory finger at Gibbs “unless you sneaked your name on the list, which I know you did not, because I keep it encrypted on my computer and you don’t have the skills to crack the code.”

Gibbs turned, and flashed a grin at them. “Figured it’s the thought that counts.”

Tony’s eyes widened, and he stared at Gibbs, wondering whether he’d understood the hidden meaning of the words, and the gift, correctly. Gibbs put away his gun and his badge, obviously ready to head home, and then he walked up to Tony.

“Ziva, Timmy,” Abby interrupted before the two agents had time to come to any conclusions about what was actually happening. “I’ve got something you really need to see down in the lab.” The she grabbed them both by the arm—going for the hardly resisting, still puzzled Timmy first, and then Ziva, who by the surprised look on her face had already connected some dots—and dragged them towards the elevator.

“No, Abby!” McGee started, suddenly sounding very apprehensive. “Not the elevator! Tony has already hung up the mistle—“ his voice got cut off by the closing doors, Abby having already shoved both her victims inside.

“I’ve got to find out how that turns out,” Tony grinned once they were left to the relative privacy of the sparsely manned office, unable to stop his mind from wandering and wishing he could see trough the metal. A pair of fingers brushed Tony’s cheek, turning his head and returning his focus back to the issue at hand—back to Gibbs, the key, and what it meant. Tony still hadn’t gotten used to the gentle warmth Gibbs’ eyes sometimes sparkled with when he looked at Tony, even though it was becoming more frequent the longer they’d been together. He could see it now, and to be honest, it was a little freaky when it happened at work. Yet Tony couldn’t be happier of the fact that those looks were reserved only for him.

“So, you like your gift?” Gibbs asked with a smile, and seated himself on the edge of Tony’s desk.

“I do,” Tony replied, hand closing around the key, as if the reassuring solidness of the metal could make the rest of the suggestion equally real as well. “I’m just not entirely sure what you mean by it.” The comment brought a few thoughtful wrinkles on Gibbs’ brow.

“Well how much clearer do you want me to get, Tony?” he said, not exactly irately, but the way Gibbs crossed his arms across his chest and turned to stare at the floor spoke more on the lines of ‘do you really need me to spell it out for ya’. It wasn’t a topic they talked about. In fact, in the year they’d been together, both had somehow managed to avoid using the word relationship.

It wasn’t for the lack of trying on Tony’s part; Gibbs had always seen the subject coming a mile off even before Tony could really speak his mind, and had either fled the scene, or begun to look so uncomfortable or grouchy, that Tony just gave up and kept his mouth shut. Neither of them had much to boast about their past attempts at commitment, and perhaps the fear of old patterns repeating was stronger than either was willing to admit.

“Jethro,” Tony began softly, the love he had for this man more than evident in that single word, but he didn’t care who heard. After last year’s elevator incident—which had instantly sprouted rumours that spread like wildfire around the agency— their being together was hardly a secret, and hearing his name certainly made Gibbs look at Tony again. “Given the fact that I’m over at your place half the time already, I was just wondering if this gift is anything more than a formality.” Gibbs groaned, his discomfort obvious on his face, and once again Tony felt like he should just let the thing go. He’d talked with Ducky about it, and with Abby, getting the same advice from both: give Gibbs time. But how damn much time did the stubborn man need?

“I just want you to come home with me, Tony,” Gibbs finally said quietly, taking hold of Tony’s hand, the one with the key, squeezing it lightly and gently rubbing a thumb over Tony’s knuckles. The warmth returned to his eyes as they watched Tony, even if it was shadowed by a thin layer of worry.

“I _am_ ,” Tony replied with a resigned sigh, too tired to tackle the subject on this of all days with his obstinate lover. He’d been waiting to spend Christmas with Gibbs for weeks, and wasn’t about to spoil it with bickering. So instead, he put on a smile. “I’ve already packed all I need for the holidays, the bag is in my trunk, and I’ll drive over to your place as soon as we’re done here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Gibbs told him, “I want...” he stopped, his free hand forming a frustrated fist, as if trying to grasp the right words and not letting them go, gaze falling to the floor again. It was almost painful to watch someone as bold and confident as Gibbs struggle so hard with something—Tony wanted to make him stop, tell him there was no need for this, Tony wasn’t going anywhere... but it all froze on his lips. He had waited for this, _longed_ for it.

Tony stood up, eased his way between Gibbs legs, placing his hand over the other’s tightly enclosed fingers. “Look at me,” he pleaded. Gibbs’ head rose slowly, and he leaned back a bit until Tony could see his face properly. All the warmth was still there, as was the dire need to make his meaning understood. “Just say it, Jethro, please,” Tony pleaded quietly. Gibbs nodded lightly, the fist under Tony’s hand unclenching, releasing its hold, fingers slipping between Tony’s.

“Come _home_ with me, Tony.” The words came out without hesitation, but full of weight and feeling; they spoke of early morning kisses in bed, nights spent in each other’s arms, evenings in front of the fireplace, watching TV and having beers on the sofa, cooking together and eating at the same table while talking about everything ordinary—of a life shared, each day, from this day forth. Tony noticed only now how the whole bullpen had grown silent, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the answer.

“Yes,” Tony whispered, the sound of the word still loud in the silence, almost as loud as the beating of his heart that threatened to burst. Gibbs grabbed Tony’s face and pulled him down into a kiss that hid nothing and said everything, claiming Tony’s mouth and his heart in front of everyone. The surrounding crew exploded into happy cheers and applause, creating a deafening noise. But for Tony the world consisted only of the man he loved, his closeness and warmth, and that talented tongue that made certain parts of Tony wish they were home already.

“Gentlemen!” the thunderous voice of director Vance bellowed from the floor above. The crowd instantly quieted down, and Gibbs reluctantly released Tony, looking past him at the source of the interruption, not with irritation, but with a smile. Twisting around to take look as well, Tony saw Vance staring at them severely, but suddenly his face softened and a hint of a smile appeared before he spoke. “I suggest you continue that somewhere more private.” Then he turned to look at the others. “As for the rest of you, go back to work, you’re not off duty yet.” The crowd obeyed, and dispersed. With a final nod and grin aimed at Tony and Gibbs, the director wished them both Merry Christmas, and went back to his office, shaking his head and chuckling.

“I hope that means he’s okay with this,” Tony pondered aloud as he turned back towards Gibbs.

“He is,” Gibbs told him, looking slightly embarrassed for a moment. “He said he’d personally kick my ass to kingdom come if I didn’t stop being such an idiot.”

“What, Vance?” Tony asked, more than a little incredulously. “Have to remember to thank him for that later.”

“’Later’ being the operative word,” Gibbs noted, pushing Tony back a bit and getting up. “We better get going if we want to avoid the holiday traffic.”

“Agreed,” Tony replied, more than eager to leave the office. He locked away his own gun and badge, and grabbed his backpack and coat, heading after Gibbs who already waited for him near the elevator. As Tony got to him and tried to push the call button, Gibbs slapped his hand away.

“We’re taking the stairs, don’t want you getting distracted,” he stated. Grabbing Tony’s arm, Gibbs lead the way towards the staircase, and Tony followed obediently, briefly wondering if the others were still in the elevator... Suddenly a whole other thought struck him.

“So, if you weren’t on the Secret Santa list, but I was, where’s my other present?” Gibbs’ only reply was a devious smile, one that told Tony he was never going to find out where, what, or who the gift was from. “You drive me crazy sometimes, you know that?” he said with an exasperated sigh, and let Gibbs take him home.

 

~ Epilogue ~

 

Agent Paul Sullivan came to his desk after a long day out in the field, feeling exhausted, which is why he almost missed the package sitting atop the current load of case files filling it. The gift was neatly wrapped and tied elaborately with a festive ribbon, oblong in shape, and felt heavy in his hand as he picked it up. The strange thing about it was, however, that it had been addressed to someone called ‘Tony’, but the name had been crossed out, and beneath it the words ‘ _look up agent Alicia Phillips_ ’ had been added in a totally different handwriting.

Curiosity won over, and Paul decided to peek inside. It was a book, ‘ _101 ways to use garlic_ ’. Paul had the exact same copy on his shelf at home, but this one was even signed by the author, and Paul had to wonder who this ‘Tony’ guy was to reject such a thoughtful present. Agent Phillips certainly deserved better, and Paul decided to find her just to tell her that.

He never learned how the book had found its way to him, but after meeting Alicia, Paul remained forever grateful to them.

~~~ End ~~~

 


End file.
